Draconians had the ability to sense someone's race just by looking at them. Others could do it through scent, but sometimes their noses were tricked, especially when it came to half-breeds, giving draconians the better chance of accuracy.
When Ulric looked at Charlotte, he knew she wasn't just a human.
She was also part fae.
Why hadn't Isadora mentioned this before? Perhaps Charlotte's lineage never revealed itself in her vision, which suddenly made sense when she'd said there's something strange about her. It's a good strange, but I can't place it.
The mortal's fae side had to be it.
It may also have been why he didn’t feel comfortable harming the woman, even if she was getting in the way of his job. Isadora may want to know that Charlotte was part fae, so the mortal's death could be upsetting.
As he tried to figure out how to get the information he needed without harming Charlotte in the process, vampires arrived in mist, and they wouldn’t allow her to live no matter who she was. So Ulric had little choice, locking Charlotte in her bedroom for her own safety—as well as to prevent her escape.
With the sound of her tugging on the door behind him, he walked into the living room, weapon in hand, using his ears to sense movements in the thick fog now blanketing the area. Though these vampires weren't yet tangible, it only meant they were hesitating, probably because they hadn’t expected a draconian to be there and were debating their chances.
Ulric’s lips curved into a smirk at the thought. The older the vampire, the stronger and faster it was, but unless there were any over three centuries old present, there wasn’t going to be much of a fight.
In fact, Ulric didn't even think he'd reach Wrath. The vampires of this realm weren't quite as old or skilled as those he'd tangled with in other places, so this fight probably wouldn't provide much entertainment.
It was then that he saw a shadow to his left, gripping his dagger more tightly as the vampire materialized and launched itself at him.
Turning his body swiftly with a loud, inhuman growl, Ulric plunged the blade into the vampire’s torso just as he'd tried to reach him from his unarmed side. The male’s blood red eyes, glowing through the thick mist, displayed agony as the runed blade was wedged in his abdomen.
Ulric didn't wait, drawing his arm up to cut through his enemy's sternum, slicing the body open until it hit the vampire’s throat.
Blood spurted, and the blade cut through the side of his neck with a harsh, merciless jerk. No matter how extreme the damage was however, the attack wouldn’t kill the undead creature unless Ulric tore off his head and stabbed the heart.
The vampire would, however, be out of commission for a while.
Ulric heard a bit of shuffling behind him as soon as the vampire hit the floor, and simultaneously noticed a shift in the mist as if his remaining enemies thought to ignore him in order to reach their target.
But he didn't have time to react when a second vampire lunged for him from behind.
Quickly, Ulric flipped his dagger over and slammed it backwards, stabbing it right into his adversary's heart, having done it so many times he knew exactly where to plunge without thinking.
Mercilessly jerking his arm away, the man fell to the floor just as Ulric heard the sound of a door breaking down, followed by a loud crash and a woman's startled scream. Charlotte’s room had just been invaded, proving that they'd decided not to stay and fight—typical.
Though the two he'd just injured would eventually get back up without a proper beheading, he had enough time to stop their companions from damaging Charlotte, or abducting her when they realized the box was no longer in the apartment.
Rounding the corner into the hall, he found Charlotte being pinned against the wall by a male vampire. Surprisingly, she looked more angry than scared, trying to fight even as her head was jerked to the side, exposing her throat to sharp fangs.
Ulric moved toward the vampire at top speed and shoved his arm in the way to take the bite instead. The vampire was so quick about it that he drew a good gulp of draconian blood before he even realized what had happened.
Immediately, he freed Charlotte and tried to release the draconian's arm. But Ulric gripped the back of his head to keep it in place, digging his fingers into the creature’s scalp so hard he could've torn his hair out along with the skin.
Blackened veins began streaking along the vampire’s face and throat as he was forced to swallow the poisonous crimson while Ulric sneered.
“Bet that's tasty.”
Once enough blood was given to weaken him, Ulric shoved the vampire away, who fell to the floor without the energy to even writhe in agony.
Charlotte's face was incredulous now, her pupils dilated and chest heaving with her breath. But Ulric didn't have the time to do more than take her arm and tug her toward the bathroom.
“Stay in here,” he commanded after checking inside for enemies.
Charlotte was too dumbfounded to argue, letting him shut the door on her. He even heard it locking from the inside after only half a moment, smirking at the sound as he reached for the poisoned vampire.
Ulric drug him back into the living room with one arm. The mist had since faded away, but he wasn't convinced there were no more vampire's left hiding somewhere inside. Still, he didn't worry for now, and started the task of beheading the two who’d already fallen.
As a result, the bodies and the blood they’d spilled turned to ash. Conveniently, this wouldn't leave the place looking like a murder scene, though the ash might be hard to explain away—not that it was Ulric's problem.
He left only the poisoned vampire alive in order to get answers, grabbing the weakened male by the throat to lift up against the wall with one arm.
There was a thick, murky substance dripping from the corners of his mouth, signifying that he wasn’t in any condition to fight.
“Enjoy your meal?” he asked maliciously.
The vampire sent him a pain filled glare. “You’re … lucky.”
“It's not luck. So why attack the girl? Don’t you know she’s your only lead?”
“L-Lead?” He looked confused, cringing in pain. “For what?”
Silence ensued the question as Ulric's brows narrowed. They don't want the box? “What the hell are you after?”
“The girl. What else would we want, Draconian?”
Charlotte? Despite realizing he’d made an error over their motives, Ulric's countenance remained impassive. “Why?”
“Why are you … protecting her?”
Snarling at the vampire, Ulric heard the faint sound of the bathroom door slowly creaking open. Charlotte was probably trying to sneak out, oblivious to the potential of more threats that could be looming anywhere, which cut his interrogation short.
“Time's up,” he growled, quickly finishing the creature off.
Once the body was nothing but ash, he rounded the corner and saw Charlotte sneaking to her room. She was quiet enough, but like clockwork, another vampire came tearing in behind her from a smaller guestroom across the hall, tackling the mortal to the floor without warning.
Ulric didn't care for Charlotte's well being outside of getting his answers—or he thought he didn't. But witnessing the attack, something inside of him seethed with rage.
No one touches her!
Finally, Ulric hit Wrath, his top and bottom canines sharpening as black horns formed on the sides of his head, winding from his temples to point at the back of his crown. His dark markings started glowing an electric blue along with his eyes, his pupils slitted in a reptilian manner.
That vampire was about to pay dearly.
Chapter 5
“Have to find a way out … think, Charlotte!”
War had broken out in her apartment, and she didn't want to stick around for the outcome. But with everything going on, she almost questioned whether or not she should actually try to get out, especially after being grabbed and almost … bitten? By someone with fangs? Like a vampire?
She almost
wanted to laugh, feeling as if she’d gotten stuck in a bad movie rehearsal.
When it grew quiet outside and stayed that way for several long moments, Charlotte slowly opened the door, hearing the original intruder in the living room. He was preoccupied with someone—or something—so she took her chance and headed toward her bedroom, hoping to slip past him whenever he checked the bathroom and make it to the front door.
She'd already deleted all the information related to the box from her laptop before her bedroom was invaded, so she didn't have to worry about leaving it behind. All she needed to do was wait by the door, listen for him to come looking, then take off in a sprint.
God willing, she'd pass him in the hall and manage to reach a public place before he—or anyone else—caught up.
As she stepped through the bedroom door however, she felt a rush of air from behind just before being tackled. Falling to the floor, she hit her hands and knees, and in the blink of an eye, a fist grasped her long hair, mercilessly jerking her head to the side.
She wasn't even sure what happened before a scalding pain erupted in her neck as fangs sank into the exposed flesh.
Charlotte tried to scream, but the sound died in her throat when her entire body went numb. Her eyes became heavy with a sense of euphoria overwhelming her, the dizzying sensation causing the enraged snarl she perceived from down the hall to seem unimportant.
Still, she fought to keep her eyes open as warm blood ran down her throat, staining her light blue top, only jolting when her neck was released and her paralyzed body was quickly lifted from the floor.
Her attacker gripped Charlotte without any trouble, then moved much more quickly than a normal human could, jumping through the window. Glass shattered everywhere as they careened toward the roof of a neighboring building, and though it was hard to see, Charlotte noticed that the man who'd initially broken into her apartment was following.
He also jumped from the ledge of her window just as they'd landed, and she incredulously watched as he covered the distance and came down behind her attacker in the pouring rain, stabbing his large, runed knife into her captor's back before he could escape.
The fanged man let a cry of agony and released Charlotte. She fell to the roof, staring up through the rain as her unlikely savior grabbed his jaw with a vicious snarl, then gruesomely jerked his bare hands once, then twice, successfully tearing the head off.
She tensed when the body fell over her, but turned into ash and blew away in the rainy breeze before it hit. Aghast, she was left staring up at the original intruder who'd tugged his blade from the corpse's back just as it'd fallen.
“Irritating bastards,” he grumbled, turning an unhappy expression on Charlotte. “I told you to stay put.”
Likewise, she felt foolish for disobeying now, though at least her paralysis felt somehow euphoric, as if she'd taken a Valium and chased it with tequila.
She only wished she actually had.
Still, it left her unable to struggle as he crouched and hooked an arm around her back to pull her up. More gently than she thought him capable of, he tilted her head to the side to inspect the bite wound on her neck, and judging by the look on his face, she supposed she'd live.
Though his next phrase offered no comfort.
“Vampire bites paralyze humans, but it shouldn't last too long. I'll have to take you somewhere safe in the meantime in case more come back.”
Charlotte couldn’t believe this was happening. All because of some trinket box, she was now laying on a rooftop in the arms of a stunningly handsome, yet dangerous stranger who was talking about vampires and calling her a human.
Seriously? Vampires really existed? So what the hell was he?
She wanted to convince herself that this was just a dream, get away from him, and forget it'd ever happened. But if those … vampires were after the box, they might find Julian, so she had to do something.
But all she was capable of in that moment was turning a wobbly arm to attempt pushing at the man holding her, which did absolutely nothing to help her cause. His next comment also proved that even if she had total control of her limbs, he wasn't letting this go.
“I don’t know why those bloodsuckers are after you, but I need you alive.”
Ulric lifted Charlotte to carry across the roof, and she looked particularly unhappy as her lips parted and she managed to get out, “What … are—”
“What am I?” he supplied, knowing that would be the first question she'd ask. “My name's Ulric Dra'Kai in case you're curious. I’m a draconian, and also surprised I was wrong about what those vampires were after.”
She shifted restlessly in response, proving the effect of the bite she'd endured was slowly wearing off, especially when she asked more clearly, “You don't think … they want the box?”
Still worried for her friend. That was an admirable but misplaced concern considering her current condition.
Though Ulric learned from his short interrogation that these vampires had only been after Charlotte, there was still a chance more would come for the box considering his run in with a vampiric mercenary the night before.
So he replied, “It’s hard to tell,” then asked suspiciously, “what’s in the box?”
He needed to know if she'd managed to open it. If so, there was no reason to continue searching.
But apparently that wasn't the case. Charlotte glared and tried to push away again despite her condition, retorting angrily, “I don’t know! I just got it yesterday from someone I’ve never heard of! I don’t know anyone in Georgia, let alone a James Claybourne!”
“I believe you,” Ulric replied quickly to hopefully keep her calm—or at least somewhat agreeable. “But you do know where it was sent. So I can't leave you behind with vampires on your trail until I know what you know.”
Isadora's vision said Charlotte would lead him to his ultimate goal, and apparently, the foretelling wasn't wrong. Because it was very unlikely the mortal would give him any details just then—she was still struggling to get away—he had no choice in taking her with him.
Letting a sigh at her squirming, Ulric sarcastically inquired, “Where are you trying to run off to?”
“Anywhere, as long as it’s away from you! What the hell are you anyway? Draconian? Vampires? Seriously? Let me go, I’m catching a plane to my friend’s house, far away from here, then getting drunk so I can convince myself that this was all just a bad dream!”
“You’d only endanger others by running to them,” Ulric spoke casually despite Charlotte's ire. “Besides, you'd be safer with me anyway.”
“Oh, that was made abundantly clear when you held a knife to my throat,” she countered mockingly.
“Believe what you will.”
“How can I when you're probably about to tell me Santa's real too, huh?”
Ulric rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say there’s more in the world than human's like to think.”
“And just how is it that no one's ever confirmed their existence?”
“Because this is your realm, so you don’t see us here.”
“What? Would you make fucking sense?”
“I am making sense, but you’re not ready to hear it,” he snapped, stopping to glare at her, but only found her glaring right back—and Ulric lost his train of thought.
Her eyes were a deep shade of forest green that he found incredibly alluring, her lips soft, the bottom one thicker, giving them a sensual shape. Her strawberry blonde hair was long, and had some curl when dry, but now, it was a lighter tone of copper and slicked back from the rain.
Ulric had to force his mind off of it, then took a breath to abate the spark of anger she'd lit in him. Arguing wouldn't get them anywhere, especially not when she refused to back down, which he found just as beguiling as her eyes.
Her movements were becoming stronger anyway, which didn't make it terribly hard to hold onto her, but proved that getting to his car sooner rather than later would be preferable.
“I don’t ha
ve time to nurse you. I need the location of the box, and I’m not letting you out of my sight until I have it.”
“Put me down right now, asshole!”
“Give me the location and I will,” he muttered, ignoring the way she was hitting her fists into his shoulder as he walked to the edge of the roof.
Once there, he mentioned, “You may want to close your eyes, lady. It’s a long way down.”
Charlotte looked ready to give him another opinion until his words registered, and she finally looked, noticing they stood on the edge of a building, five stories up.
“What are you—no!”
Ulric jumped without qualm. As soon as he did, she grabbed him tightly and screamed, the sound muffled when her face was buried in the crook of his neck.
To Ulric, five stories was like a hill—to Charlotte, it was probably more like a skyscraper. He plummeted toward the ground at full force and hit the cement of the alleyway like a rock, knocking up chunks of the material beneath his boots.
Charlotte had a death grip on him the entire time, and refused to let go even though it was obvious they were both safely on the ground below. Ulric watched her quietly, knowing she’d been through hell already, and though he didn't care about her difficulties handling everything she'd learned, he still didn’t move.
Maybe it was her innate fae charm, but something about the woman was incredibly appealing to him. She was beautiful, but he’d ignored beautiful women several times before, leaving him at a loss over his sudden need to be considerate.
When she finally lifted her head, seeing his face not too far from hers, she frowned. “How are we not dead?”
“Not human, remember?” Ulric turned and began to walk. “It wasn't too high for me.”
“You could’ve said that before you leapt!”
“You wouldn’t have believed me.”
Charlotte narrowed her brows as though she knew he was right, and probably still didn’t believe a word of this. Ulric carried her through the pelting rain and wind whipping down the alley they’d landed in, calling her out on it.
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